Under the porn films billboard
The shadows of worn out apartment complexes grow. They swallow the dilapidated flowerbedsChildren draw tombstones. The transiently windswept flowers won't even bloomThe vagrant crows playing in the water, the parking lot of the taxi company, the rusted fence wearing down on the road, are like laceration marks of this city
It's often said "It's painful, it's painful" but, there are no cases of deaths by griefThat melancholic mood is just good. The daily life to me is just good.That's why I put them on. I'm the clown of the starry night stage.Now the stardust is falling, or is it the garbage waste?Whichever it is, it doesn't change the fact that they're crap.
If being alive is a bother, to end up dying is also a bother. Making songs is also a bother. Everyone in the whole world is a bother.
The girl under the porn films billboard, always waiting for someone,even if she wrapped herself with the playful usual days, that future is numb, without any warmthThings like dreams are idolatry. I, who worship them, am immoralist. If I wished for it, they'll become true. They'll become true. They'll become true.
"Scattering cherry blossoms are beautiful" -If it's about the typical romanticism that compares them with life, I also have it thoughShedding tears after flowers scattered. Shedding tears after flowers bloomed. Finally, shedding tears all day long. If you'd realize it's actually depression, it'd be fine.
If facing forward is a bother, then facing back is also a bother. Going to sleep is also a bother. Each and every thing is a bother.
The girl under the porn films billboard, always waiting for someone,even is she turned the playful thoughts into piercings and wore them,the expressionles day-to-day just moves away"Dreams are the last Messiah" - if the megalomaniac spreading so wishes for it, they'll become true. They'll become true. They'll become true.Annoying behind-spirit 1, lacking talent
Sneer is flocking around the city lights. And so, the light disappears, the faces of everyone floatsIf we take "light" as "unceasing brightness", we should doubt our own speculations. In other words, realization.At the end of resignation, the redness of spilled blood, the redness of my hometown's sky, the redness of the abyss of death bursting into flamesThey flow clodly. Years just flow. Are they also empty? Do they have some kind of source?
The girl under the porn films billboard, always waiting for someone,even if she decorated the flower vase with playful hope,the drab day-to-day remains insipid"Dreams are people's struggle" - if the sympathizers who flant that wish for that, they'll become true. They'll become true. They'll become true.Annoying behind-spirit, lacking talent